Kisses in the Dark
by Solas-Divided
Summary: What did she have if she didn’t have her friends? Who could she trust when everything she believed in was destroyed? Sometimes the wrong person may be more than she’d expected.Angst,BDSM,Bond,Exhib,H/C,HJ,Language,M/F,Oral,SoloF,SoloM,Voy,
1. Chapter 1

This story was originally written by Beauxbatons22 who has graciously allowed me permission to rewrite and finish it! The original story (The Dark One) is still posted on Beauxbatons22's account so I strongly recommend you show her some love!

http :// www . fanfiction . net/u/900199/Beauxbatons22

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Kisses in the Dark

Chapter 1

It was still hot out, despite the early September breeze. So hot in fact, that most of the students crammed in the stifling sardine can that was the Hogwarts express, could scarcely bring themselves to change from their cooling tank tops, shorts and sleeveless tops into their uniforms.

The corridors leading from compartment-to-compartment lay nearly barren compared to most years where students went around greeting the friends they hadn't seen all summer. This year, everyone seemed to have opted to remain idle in their four-person compartments, methodically cooling themselves with their wands or Muggle-made paper fans.

Hermione Granger was one of these heat-beaten students. She sat next to the window, watching the scenery fly by while sweat trickled from her temples and down the valley of her breasts, just over the spot her Head Girl's badge glinted against the blistering sunlight.

Next to her, Harry Potter lounged half on and half off the leather seat. His messy, black hair was plastered to his brow, leaving the jagged scar bared for all to see. His glasses were slightly foggy with his heavy breathing and the front of his gray t-shirt mirrored the humidity of the day with a large, wet mark.

Across from them sat Ronald Weasley with his mountain of sweets and oblivious domineer. Unlike everyone else on the train, he didn't seem affected by the heat at all while he munched away on a Liquorice Wand.

Unable to watch him any longer without completely flipping her cap at the injustice of the situation, Hermione pulled out her latest edition of _Advanced Charms_ and flipped to the marked page. Her fingers idly stroked the tiny badge in an age-old rhythm of concentration.

"I seriously can't believe you're reading in this heat!" Harry groaned, closing his green eyes and turning his head away as if the sight of the book made his stomach turn.

"Its summer, you know. I mean, who in their bloody right mind would even want to read a beast of that size? It's got to be at least twenty thousand pages!" Ron piped in around a mouthful of Chocolate Frog.

Hermione glanced up at him from the paragraph she'd been reading, and scowled. "Actually, it's only one thousand, nine hundred seventy-six, and honestly, Ronald, I don't see how it's any of your business!"

"One thousand… are you fucking kidding me?" Ron exclaimed, a bit of chocolate falling out of his mouth.

"Ron, drop it." Harry said eyes still closed.

"Unlike some, _Ronald_, I actually _enjoy_ reading," Hermione retorted, moving her foot away from the glob of brown goop now lying on the compartment floor. "It helps me keep up on my studies!"

Ron snorted, tearing off the head of another Chocolate Frog between his teeth like some rabid animal. "All you ever do is study," he chomped out, brown sludge moving around between his teeth. "You can't possibly get any smarter."

"And _you_ can't possibly get any grosser!" she finally snapped, having had enough of his atrocious eating habits. "Has your mother not taught you anything about manners and chewing with your mouth closed? Heaven forbid if you actually swallowed before speaking!"

Again, he snorted, stuffing the rest of the frog into his mouth and gulping it down with some pumpkin juice. "I have never had any complaints before. You're the only one prissy enough to make a big deal about it."

Hermione gasped. "Prissy? How dare you! And I am not the only one who has noticed! Why do you think no one sits with you during meal times?"

"All right," Ron decided, the tips of his ears as red as his hair. "We'll ask Harry."

Harry groaned, and was ignored.

"Tell him, Harry!" Hermione prodded him in the side with her elbow. "I know you've noticed it as well!"

"I notice nothing!" he grumbled, moving away from her jostling. "Leave me alone!"

"You see?" Ron grinned broadly.

Huffing, she slammed her book closed and glowered. "Well, it's disgusting!"

Still beaming, stained teeth flashing, Ron tore off a large chunk of Liquorice Wand and chewing noisily, with his mouth still gapping.

"You are positively revolting, Ronald Weasley!"

Her seething was interrupted by Harry's slight snicker. "You _are_ prissy."

"I am not!" she gasped. "Why are you taking his side?"

Harry peeled one eyelid open and smirked. "I'm not, but it's funny how your voice gets really squeaky and high-pitched when you're mad. You sort of sound like my Aunt Petunia when she's having one of her fits."

"That… that horrible woman? You're comparing me to that beastly, vile …?" Her outraged spattering only had both boys laughing hysterically.

Livid to the point of tears, Hermione shot to her feet, stuffed her book into her backpack and left it on her now vacant seat. She gave neither boy – now nearly rolling on the floor with their offending laughter – a second glance when stepping over Harry's kicking legs and marching to the compartment door.

A single tear slipped her lashes no matter how hard she fought to suppress it and she reached up to brush it away while opening the door with the other when the door flew open and she walked straight into a hard, unyielding chest draped in the softest silk shirt she'd ever felt her face press into before she caught herself and shot back to peer into the scowling face above her.

Eyes of stormy gray bore down into her upturned face through satiny strands of nearly pure white. Soft, lips pulled back into a sneer over teeth as white as his chiseled complexion.

"Bickering now are we?" Draco Malfoy goaded, drawing the attention of the two now struggling to untangle themselves off the compartment floor with their wands drawn. "Dare we dream the possibility of trouble in paradise?"

Behind him, several voices snickered, drawing Hermione's attention away from the dancing light just behind those intense, silver eyes to focus on the four blocking the corridor.

It was no real surprise that the four were none other than Draco's personal fan club consisting of Crabbe, Goyle, Theo and Pansy – or the Rat Brigade – as Hermione liked to think of them.

"Sod off, Malfoy." Ron spat, amusement all gone from his face.

"No need to get touchy, Weasley," Draco smirked. "We're all already aware of your inadequacy with pleasing women."

His gang of Slytherins snickered as Ron's face turned tomato red.

"Like you do, Ferret?" Hermione bit back before Ron could speak. "I don't think Pansy qualifies as a woman."

Despite Pansy's hiss of rage, Draco grinned, replying coolly. "Sticking up for your worthless boyfriend, Granger? Pity, I always thought you were smarter."

"Ron is not my boyfriend," she stated firmly, ignoring the sharp snap of Ron's head as it whipped around to glare at her. "But then I don't expect you to understand friendship, especially when it doesn't involve the vagina-magnet between your legs." This seemed to wipe the humor off his face quick enough. Hermione one the other hand took a step closer and smirked up into his face. "Now, tell me, Malfoy, did you come all the way here simply to ask about my relationship statues, or did you actually have a purpose?"

Draco's silver eyes darkened the longer they bore down into her face. They held her captive for what seemed like forever before he finally broke the trance to say, "Your royal highness's presences is being summoned to the Heads' compartment," He said, glancing behind her at the two watching them carefully before turning on his heels and walking off.

His merry band of misfits shot her dirty glares before following, all, except Theodore Nott, who gave her a once over, grinned slyly and strolled away in the opposite direction with his hands in his pockets.

Now what in the world was all that about? She wondered, genuinely baffled.

On his way to his own compartment, Draco's mind wondered and lingered on the Muggleborn he'd just left behind. It was an embarrassing and baffling thing that she would catch his attention so easily. He never fancied himself the type to associate with common witches and tainted blood very unattractive in his opinion. Then there was the fact that she was one-half of the Golden Trio and that alone should squish any sort of lustful feelings he may possess. But even despite all that, he couldn't help notice how much she'd changed since their first arrival to Hogwarts. The transformation had been slow, but it hadn't gone unnoticed by him.

For example: her hair had somehow been tamed from its first chaotic state. The strands were no longer frizzy and roaring around her head like some crazed medusa. It now lay in the softest, shiniest waves he'd ever seen. The golden-brown rings fell down her slender back, the ends just tickling the lush curve of her bottom.

Then there were her eyes. He could never quite understand what it was about them, but they never failed to captivate him, even from a distance. The way they shone with this… light from somewhere deep inside her and the way they could somehow project every emotion she was feeling always gave him this warring sensation to simply sit there and peer into her eyes until he knew all her secrets.

Even now, when he'd stepped into their compartment, fully expecting to find the three in some blissful moment of friendship, he had known something was wrong. Her eyes hadn't been shining. They'd been wet and sad as if she'd been crying, and for the first time in his life, he'd felt this gut wrenching desire to pull her into his arms and comfort her.

But of course, these feelings were ridiculous. She was a filthy little… well, she was just filthy and his father would never approve.

Draco stopped inside his compartment and shrugged on his robes. He ignored when Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy followed him in and took their seats. He continued to ignore them while tucking his wand into the pocket of his black jeans before heading for the front of the train, thoughts of Hermione still twirling around in his mind.

Professor McGonagall glanced up briefly from the stack of parchment on her lap when Hermione slipped into the Heads' compartment.

"Hello, Ms. Granger. Please sit." She said before returning to her papers.

Hermione murmured a greeting and took a seat across from the Transfigurations Professor. Her gaze lingered around the otherwise empty compartment, wondering where the Head Boy was.

Five minute into waiting, Hermione wished she'd brought her book along. The silence was killing her, even if it was broken every so often by the shuffle of papers. But at least this compartment seemed to have a cooling charm placed on it and was loads more comfortable than the one she'd shared with Ron and Harry.

She quickly pushed aside thoughts of her two best friends, having not forgiven them their careless banter at her expense. Sometimes she wondered if they didn't simply keep her around to do their homework and make fun of for amusement. It certainly felt that way.

For as long as she could remember, she'd always been the dispensable one, the one that always got the blunt end of their anger when all she wanted to do was help them. They never thought twice about cutting her off from their friendship whenever it suited their purpose, reinstating her only when they needed something.

She really tried not to think about it. It only infuriated her to think they would use her. So, she turned her thoughts in a different direction.

"Professor, who is the—"

Her question regarding the identity of her fellow Head Boy was quickly recognized when the compartment door slid open and…

"You!" she cried, horrified by the unexpected change of events.

Draco gave her a frown and moved deeper inside the suddenly cramped room. His gaze darted between the empty seat next to McGonagall and the one next to Hermione as if he couldn't believe his rotten luck.

Finally with an exasperated sigh, he took the spot next to Hermione, keeping clear to his side of the seat, leaving a wide birth between them.

"Now, I am aware that neither of you get along," Professor McGonagall stated, getting to her feet.

"Understatement," Draco muttered under his breath, steely, narrowed eyes fixed on the rushing scenery outside the window.

The older witch ignored him and pushed on in her solemn, no nonsense tone. "But this may prove educational to the both of you given the chance. The Headmaster has high hopes that this year – now that the war is over – the students will have a chance to form a House unity amongst them, especially Gryffindor and Slytherin as the two have never seen eye-to-eye. Headmaster Dumbledore believes that you two will provide the school with a fresh outlook on how things ought to be. You're both bright, exceptional students and given your history, it will do wondrous things for school spirit to see even an understanding between you."

"So, we have to be… _civil _to each other?" Draco asked, sounding and looking disgusted.

McGonagall sighed, rolling her blue eyes heavenwards as if praying for patience. "Well, it would probably do you well to try, Mr. Malfoy, seeing as how you will be sharing a dorm."

"What?" Hermione and Draco shouted on unison.

"Absolutely not!" Draco barked on.

"I would rather sleep outside!" Hermione agreed.

McGonagall put her hand up, instantly receiving silence from both outraged and horrified students. "Must I remind you that your Heads statue depends on you treating others within the school with fairness and respect? That also includes each other! If you refuse these rules, than I am afraid I have other choice but to remove you from your position, Mr. Malfoy, and give it to Mr. Potter. I am certain he will be more than thrilled to take your place!"

A Malfoy? Defeated and bested by a Potter? His father would have his hide, not to mention that having Potter as a partner would make Hermione happy and that was something he wasn't willing to have!

"No!" he all but yelled at the Professor. "I want my place!"

He could have sworn the batty, old witch actually smirked before it was concealed.

"Excellent! Now, let's begin going over the terms of your position."

Disgruntle, Draco tuned the woman out as she rambled on about their duties and what was expected of them. He gave the odd nod and mutter of understanding, but kept a deaf ear otherwise.

Sharing his dorm… with _her_… it was going to be a long year…

Next to him, Hermione fought to keep her focus on track. Hearing what was required of them was highly important, but she couldn't stop dreading their arrival to the school and her impending living arrangements with the loathed beast slouched next to her. She couldn't believe her own Head of House would put her through such… torment! Hermione had always believed herself slightly more favored by the older witch. This was the sort of thing one would do to their enemy. It was… well, it was just cruel!

"Everything okay?" Ginny Weasley asked tentatively when Hermione marched back into her compartment later and slammed the door with all her might.

"No, everything is not _okay_!" she grounded out through her teeth, giving the bottom of the seat a hard kick. "Malfoy was made Head Boy!"

The three in the room exchanged glances, no one really surprised.

"I have to share a dorm with him!" she shrilled, furious that they could be so calm about such a matter.

"Oh…!" Ginny gasped, but it was far from horrified, if anything, it sounded… excited. "How lucky are you!"

"Lucky? Lucky! How can you… how am I…?

Ginny blushed a little under everyone's questioning stare. "Well, he _is_ one of the most… sought after boys at Hogwarts. Between him and Nott… I'm just saying… maybe it won't be so bad…"

Hermione decided to ignore the peppy redhead and focus on the matter at hand instead. She needed to mentally prepare herself if she was really going to do this without giving up her position as Head Girl. She couldn't leave the school under the callus care of Draco Malfoy. Gryffindor would never stand a chance at winning the House Cup with him in charge. She needed to maintain her position in order to keep him in line!

Draco was in no better mood as he trudged into his compartment and dropped down gracelessly into the seat next to Theo.

"Rough meeting?" Theo asked, smirking at Draco's furious glower.

"I have to share a dorm with Granger," he answered after a moment. "Can you believe it? My father is going to shit bricks when he finds out about this."

"Aw, Draky-poo," Pansy cooed in that infuriating tone that sent the hairs rising on the back of Draco's neck and his skin breaking out in cold goose bumps. "Would you like me to stay there with you? I'll keep that filthy Mudblood at bay!"

"I think Draco prefers Granger over being stuck keeping your tentacles off him," Theo snickered, earning a huff of indignation from the busty brunette.

"My Draky-poo loves my tentacles!" Pansy protested. "Isn't that right?"

"Well, at least one good thing will come of this," Draco said, ignoring Pansy's pout at not confirming her delusion. "I get to take as many points off Gryffindor as I want, with the added bonus of torturing Granger to an inch of her life!"


	2. Chapter 2

This story was originally written by Beauxbatons22 who has graciously allowed me permission to rewrite and finish it! The original story (The Dark One) is still posted on Beauxbatons22's account so I strongly recommend you show her some love!

http :// www . fanfiction . net/u/900199/Beauxbatons22

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Chapter 2

"Now that we are all fed," Headmaster Dumbledore pushed to his feet at the Head Table. "Can the Prefects please take the first years to their common rooms? Classes will begin in the morning so I strongly urge everyone to rest."

The Great Hall broke into a series of shouts and the thunder of feet as students got out of their seats and made their way to various parts of the castle.

Hermione glanced across the hall to where the Head Boy was getting to his feet and making his way to the Head Table as they'd been instructed to do by Professor McGonagall.

Mimicking his gesture, she quickly followed suit, determined not to fall behind to _him_.

Catching her hurried pace from the corner of his eye, Draco quickened his steps, unwilling to allow her access to the Headmaster first.

They both reached Dumbledore at the exact same time, slightly out of breath from their silent race.

Dumbledore smiled at them, his blue eyes twinkling behind his spectacles. "Ms. Granger, Mr. Malfoy, I trust both your summers were peaceful."

"Yes, Headmaster," they chimed on unison.

"Excellent," he motioned them around the long table. "Please follow me to your dorm."

The corridor leading to their dorm was in the exact opposite direction of all the other common rooms. They were lead up winding staircases, through twisting corridors and around sharp corners. Attempting to memorize their path quickly became a mute point when there were just too many turns to recall. In the end, she simply followed Dumbledore, hoping they'd be given a map at the end of their journey.

It felt like hours before they found themselves facing a large portrait of a small girl in a white dress. Tresses of bright gold tumbled around her pixie-like features, emphasizing the delicate, gold necklace around her slender throat. From the end, a tiny key dangled, just brushing the lace around the top of her collar.

She smiled at them welcomingly, her little hands fiddling around a boutique of wildflowers. Behind her the moon shone bright against the navy backdrop. It highlighted the dark forest scenery and the large, silhouette of a dragon swooping high in the sky, large wings just grazing the treetops.

Dumbledore inclined his head to her before turning to Hermione and Draco. "Now, this is the door leading into your common room. It is the most guarded and securest location than any of the other Houses. All that is required is a password."

"Enemies!" Hermione said immediately.

Draco crossed his arms and retorted. "Eternal enemies."

It was nearly impossible to keep the scowl from her face at his more fitting password.

Dumbledore turned to the portrait and muttered something.

The little girl curtsied and reached out her slender arm. Her curled fingers opened like a pale rose to reveal a tiny key.

Dumbledore signaled to Draco. "Go ahead, Mr. Malfoy."

After a moment of hesitance, not certain if the Headmaster had gone mad, Draco reluctantly reached for the girl's hand, pulling it away just as quickly.

"Please take the key from Mr. Malfoy and put it into the dragon's mouth, Ms. Granger," Dumbledore said.

"Key…?" Hermione murmured, baffled until Draco opened his hand and showed her the key resting in his palm.

It was with great effort not to wince when her fingers touched Draco's palm, his soft… silky palm.

Shaking herself, she quickly dropped the key into the dragon's open mouth and watched it disappear.

"Very good," Dumbledore said once all was complete.

They waited another second for the door to pop open.

At Dumbledore's nod to proceed, Draco pulled it open the whole way and slipped through, followed by Hermione than Dumbledore, but not before she noticed the missing necklace around the tiny girl's throat.

All thoughts of the girl and her necklace vanished upon entering the wide, lavish common room. It was at least twice the size of the Gryffindor common room and much more elegantly designed. The furniture seemed almost antique, a mixture of burgundy and gold. With the exception of the gray, stone walls and the green drapes. It was clear the room had been created with both Houses in mind. They would be of course spending quite a bit of time there and would need to feel comfortable. But what fascinated Hermione the most was the ceiling. It had been enchanted to mirror the ceiling in the Great Hall, showing them the dark, starry night outside.

Astounded and amazed, Hermione dared a glance at Draco to see if she could gouge his reaction, but like a true Malfoy, it was under lock and key. If anything, he seemed bored.

Yes, the place was impressive and possibly bigger than his kitchen at home, but he absolutely refused to gawk like some… commoner.

"It's just like my room, only smaller and with red and gold," he sneered when he caught Hermione watching him.

As he'd anticipated, anger flared behind those large, honey-colored eyes.

How did he do it? How did he always know just what to say to ruin a perfect moment! Who cared if his room was bigger? Showy git!

"Whatever, Malfoy," she muttered.

Dumbledore cleared his throat before the two could get into a heated argument. "Your rooms are just up those stairs," he pointed to a single set of stairs splitting in two different directions at the top. "They are designed personally for your needs. At the top, each of you will have a portrait. The witch or Wizard inside will come when summoned. You simply describe to them your desired room, along with the password: _changes_, and everything will be taken care of. Also, you can modify your passwords this way as well."

He paused, waiting to see if they had any questions before bidding them farewell and leaving them alone.

The tension in the room was so thick it could be cut with a knife. The two continued to stand facing each other, bodies braced for the other's attack while they glared daggers.

Draco broke it first. He gave Hermione a snort of disgust and stalked away, climbing the stairs two at a time until he reached the top and turned abruptly left and out of sight.

Hermione waited a beat before following suit and turning right.

The room was white, blindingly, utterly… white. The mere sight of it made Draco cringe.

"Changes!" he bellowed much louder than was necessary.

A sullen, watchful wizard appeared on the portrait doorway. "Another one? How many of does Dumbledore expect to keep making head?"

Draco ignored him. "Green and silver, with touches of black."

This seemed to make the portrait grin a little. "Slytherin are you? Well, maybe this will be better than last year, I had a bloody Gryffindor!" he sneered at the memory, then quickly disappeared from sight to do Draco's bidding.

He returned when the room began to swirl and shift. Like melting chocolate or running paint, the colors began to trickle into place around the room until it was to Draco's liking.

Perfect, he thought with a slight nod of approval.

"New Password," he said, turning away from the room all together to face the portrait. "Purity of blood."

Maybe it would help him remember just where he stood in this place and why he couldn't give in to the temptation just on the other end of the hallway.

Hermione wasn't having the same problems at all. She knew for certain that she would never allow that egotistical git anywhere near her. Oh no, she was absolutely confident that she could resist him and anything he dared dish out.

She stepped deeper into her burgundy and gold room and took a seat on the corner of the large, four-poster bed. Around her, candles flickered and danced against the walls, casting the room in a comfortable glow. They reflected off the vanity mirror and the oil paintings adorning the walls. Under her feet, the plush carpet tickled her bare soles. She'd been raised from infancy to remove her shoes when stepping into the house; it was a habit that she hadn't bothered to break, even now.

Across the room, just beyond the three piece sitting room set, was a miniature-sized library with four sets of shelves, all lined with books. Next to it was a large, oak desk already placed with ink bottles, quills and parchment. On the other side of the room was a dresser and the door leading into the bathroom.

She briefly wondered if Draco had the same set up, but doubted it. Somehow, the room morphed to fit the person's unique taste and style. This notion made her wonder if the Head Boy's room was designed like a dungeon with chains and torture devices and a large poster of Voldemort pointing and saying something like: Voldemort wants YOU!

She giggled at the thought, pushing to her feet and padding to the washroom to shower and prepare for bed.

Inside, she was stunned on the spot by the wide, lavish beauty that was the bathroom. Pure, marble white that gleamed to a blinding shine carved a built in tub wide enough for ten, it paved the floors, the walls, the His and Her counter and sinks. Just behind the tub, was a wide room enclosed by glass and smooth columns to form the showers. There was also a love seat off to one side. It was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. She could hardly wait to dive in!

She stripped and hurried towards the showers just when they magically burst to life, startling her.

"Oh my God!" she gasped, delighted.

Showers that turned themselves on and set themselves to the perfect temperature! How cool was that?

On the other side of the wall, Draco set down his wand when he heard the showers come to life on the other side of the door. That should make certain the water was at the perfect temperature while he pulled off his clothes, folded them neatly to avoid creases and sauntered into the bathroom.

The bathing spell the house-elves had taught him from an early age was one he enjoyed practicing often. It made drawing one's own shower so much easier when it only involved a flick of his wand.

Steam was already billowing from over the glass case when he entered the lavish washroom and flung his towel aside carelessly. He pulled the door open and stepped inside only to step straight into another wet, equally naked body.

A squeak of surprise emanated his own yelp of surprise as the small figure in front of him jumped and spun around.

"Granger?"

"Malfoy!"

"What the hell are you doing in here?" they shouted on unison.

"Don't look, you pervert!" she screeched, when his gaze wondered down her chest and over all the places she couldn't quite conceal with her hands, all the places now flushed pink with the heat of the water and the situation they were in.

Ribbons of water trailed over her sun-kissed flesh in a way that made him itch to do the same. Her hair plastered along the sides of her face, down the column of her throat and over the slopes of her shoulders in the most hypnotic waves and he wondered if she really was as soft as she looked beneath the dark strands concealing the creamy stretch of skin.

"Malfoy!" she screamed, kicking him in the shine and scattering all his lustful thoughts.

The pain radiating around his bruised ankle subdued the throbbing originating high up between his thighs, and he was momentarily thankful for it.

It wouldn't do to lose his head now. She was still off limits, no matter how utterly delicious she was.

Instead, he arched a brow at her, and smirked. "If you wanted to share a shower with me, all you had to do was ask, Granger."

Hermione glared at him. "I was in here first, clearly!"

"Perhaps, but this is _my_ bathroom."

"What do you mean _your_ bathroom? It's connected to my… can we please have this conversation when we're dressed?"

He wanted to say no, to block her way, to push her against the wall and…

"Get out!" he growled with more force than necessary, but his flag was beginning to rise again and this time she was bound to notice.

Having her aware of his attraction to her was not something he relished, especially when it wasn't attraction at all. He'd merely gone a while without female companionship and was paying for it now. No way was he attracted to _her_!

She didn't argue his sharp command, but ducked her head and bolted out of the stall, slamming it closed behind her with enough force to nearly break the glass.

Draco waited to hear the bathroom door close before snapping the steaming water down to freezing and dosing himself.

Sleep was going to be a bitch, he just knew it.

In her room, Hermione slumped against the closed door leading into the bathroom and closed her eyes. Her heart hammered under her hand where she was holding closed the towel she'd hastily swung around herself in her retreat. On the other side of the door, she could hear the rush of water and all she could picture was the sight of Draco's long, lean body bared before her like some carved sculpture. So pale and defined were the muscles on his chest and down his long arms. The droplets of water had curved along the rugged lines in a way that had nearly embarrassed her when she'd nearly moaned in appreciation, especially when said muscles formed his rock-hard abdomen and the droplets were headed dangerously south to an area he hadn't even bothered to conceal.

Groaning in mortification, Hermione squeezed her eyes closed and slide to the ground.

Draco Malfoy had seen her naked in the shower! How was she ever going to live this down? There was no way he was going to keep this to himself, not when humiliating her was most of the fun.

What would people think? What would the Professors think? Probably that she'd done it deliberately to get him into bed, which was exactly what he was going to tell people because he was such a jerk.

Oh my God! What if he told everyone she tried to seduce him and he had to fight her off? What if he told them that he felt pity for her and slept with her?

Half her mind was already made up to march back into the other room and threaten him with bodily harm if he did such a thing, while the other half was absolutely certain that he would make it worse if she showed how much it would bother her.

So, she opted to not let it bother her. No one would believe him, except the Slytherins and who cared about them? She would simply deny the entire thing or go along with it and tell everyone how horrible he was in the sack.

This made her snicker a bit as she climbed to her feet and hurried away to dress.


	3. Chapter 3

This story was originally written by Beauxbatons22 who has graciously allowed me permission to rewrite and finish it! The original story (The Dark One) is still posted on Beauxbatons22's account so I strongly recommend you show her some love!

http :// www . fanfiction . net/u/900199/Beauxbatons22

* * *

**A/N: I don't think you guys would believe me if I told you how… ecstatic I get when I receive a review. It's almost embarrassing how happy I get. So, for those of you who have taken the time to let me know how this story is going so far: Thank you a million times over!! Your comments make me laugh, make me smile and make me want to keep writing! So thank you!!**

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Chapter 3

It was seven thirty when Hermione arrived at the Great Hall for breakfast the next morning. Her gaze went straight to the Slytherin table, and she exhaled in relief when she spotted just how empty it still was. In fact, most of the Great Hall was fairly void of students except those – like her – who were early risers. But her one and only concern was running into Draco, a fate she'd managed to avoid thus far by sneaking out of common room at the crack of dawn in hopes of evading the sexy Head Boy.

She winced inwardly at her traitorous thoughts. Draco Malfoy was definitely _not_ sexy, unless he was naked… in the shower with his silky tresses damp and falling around his…

_Shut up, stupid voice!_

Several of the first years scattered when she marched up to the Gryffindor table and slammed down onto the bench, muttering like a crazy person under her breath.

She snatched up a piece of toast and tore into it with her teeth, still grumbling around the morsel in her mouth.

"What are you looking at?" she demanded, catching a pair of second years eyeing her as if she were some mad half-troll.

The two shook their heads, hurriedly getting up and moving further down the table without glancing back at her.

Snotty-nosed brats! She thought miserably to herself. They had no idea what she was going through! They didn't have to worry about running into the object of their abhorrence at every turn. They didn't have to worry about imagining them naked or worse, having him imagine her naked!

Oh dear God… did Draco imagine her naked? What could he possibly think? She was a far cry from Pansy's curvy figure or Millicent's willowy silhouette. She was short, with round hips and mediocre breasts. She was soft, not toned or athletic like Ginny. She didn't exactly spend a lot of time exercising and she hadn't been blessed with supermodel genes.

Oh for the love of all that was holy, why couldn't she be sexy? Why couldn't she be cool and confident like the other girls? And why the hell wasn't there a book about this sort of crap? Draco probably had a good laugh after she'd run off. She could only imagine the type of things he'd told his friends about her.

She suddenly felt humiliated to the point of tears. The single bite of bread lodged in her throat and she had to swallow several times to get it to go down. The hurt swelling inside her chest was baffling. She couldn't understand it.

On one hand, she was telling herself that she didn't care what Draco thought of her body, while on the other she felt crushed that he found her repulsive – even though he hadn't actually said so… to her knowledge.

Her body hadn't always been a sore spot for her and it irked her that up until this past summer that it had never even bothered her. She'd always concealed it so well beneath her thick, bulky robes. But that had changed when she'd spent the summer at the Burrow and Ginny had talked her into sunbathing in a two piece suit. The boys had looked mortified by the sight she made.

"_What the hell are you wearing?" Ron had hissed, glancing up and down the foyer as if expecting someone to be watching, the tips of his ears blazing bright red. _

"_A bathing suit!" she'd snapped confidently, but still feeling the prickle of self-consciousness creeping along under her skin. "What's wrong with it?"_

_Ron had blinked as if she were crazy. "What's wrong with it? You're bloody naked is what's wrong with it and it doesn't even fit you properly!"_

_Hermione glanced down at the twin triangles of fabric stretching over her breasts and strapping up and around her neck and back. The bottoms pressed and molded along the curves of her hips and bottom, tucking a little too intimately into her private places, leaving her tummy, legs, shoulders, back and most of her chest exposed. _

"_Geez, you're going to give mom a heart attack with that thing!" Ron laughed. "You should stick with your robes."_

The boys had nearly pissed themselves laughing when she'd bolted back into the bathroom to change. She could hear their loud guffawing and cruel words the whole time she tore the material off and replaced it with her clothes. She told herself it was stupid to let what they said bother her, but they were her best friends and boys on top of that which meant that they knew what a sexy girl was supposed to look like, and clearly she didn't fit that mold. After that, her imperfections were all she could see. She was too soft, too pale, and too ordinary.

But it had confused her when Harry and Ron removed their clothes and leapt into the pool they'd transfigured from the bird's bath with only their swimming trunks. Their bodies were even worse than hers. Pale, slightly flabby on Ron's part, so what right did they have to make fun of her when they were completely boring to look at themselves?

Seeing them leaping around, having fun while she roasted under her jeans and t-shirt had been the last straw to break the camel's back and she had promptly blasted a massive hole on the side of the pool and hexed both boys so they had no control over their tongues for the remainder of the day. Watching Molly scowled them every time they blurted something inappropriate was the joy of her summer.

Regardless of her payback, she still hated going anywhere without her robes. She kept wondering if maybe Ron and Harry had been right. What if she was hideous? She just couldn't bear it if someone like Draco, someone who was used to seeing the bodies of some of the most beautiful girls in school, saw her completely exposed like that.

Across the Great Hall, the sound of footsteps echoed throughout the otherwise silent chamber. All heads turned in time to watch the Rat Brigade stomp in followed by their leader.

At the sight of Draco, Hermione swallowed hard at the anxiety that tightened in her chest. She could scarcely breathe by the time his silvery eyes roamed the rows of heads and settled on hers. He held her gaze for an entire heartbeat before turning away and marching to the Slytherin table.

Only when she could no longer fall victim to his impenetrable stare did she exhale the air locked in her throat. For some unknown reason, she couldn't stop trembling, her gaze kept darting to the other table, just waiting for one of them to glance up and smirk or say something about the previous night. But no one took any notice of her at all. Draco never even glanced up.

Little-by-little, the apprehension wore away and she quickly sunk back into a state of near calm. It didn't stop her from tossing periodic glances over at the other table, but she was less likely to jump out of her skin, not even when Harry and Ron shuffled into the Great Hall looking sleepy and disheveled. They offered her a grumble that was meant as a greeting and slumped into the seat across from her.

It was halfway through watching Harry nearly doze into his eggs and Ron plow through half the items on the table with the appetite of a starved person that they received their timetables for the year.

Hermione skimmed hers, pleased to see all her courses were in the advanced classes she'd requested the year before and she had one free period just after lunch, which gave her plenty of time to do her homework and review for afternoon classes.

"Why do we always have potions with Slytherin? And why does it seem like that's always our first class?" Ron groaned, tossing his page aside and not caring when it soaked up the grease from the plate of bacon it had landed on.

Hermione shrugged, not really caring which class was first. She had bigger problems. "I have almost every class with _him_!" Hermione murmured to herself, wanting to cry, to sulk, to kill the blond Adonis… Slytherin that had quickly become the tribulation of her existence.

How was she supposed to face him in every class?

_The same way you've been facing him the last seven years!_ A sensible voice pointed out in her head.

True! She'd simply ignore him! How hard could that be?

"Well, if all else fails, we can always take Malfoy to the Forbidden Forest, knock him unconscious and leave his sorry ass there for something to find!" Harry suggested with a smirk worthy of a Slytherin.

Ron was right aboard with him, beaming from ear-to-ear. "Maybe Aragog will find him!"

"No!" Hermione said firmly. "Absolutely not! Malfoy will not hesitate to deduct points from both of you if you dare go near him!"

Harry and Ron looked at each other, smiles growing rapidly on their faces.

"That's why we have you, Hermione." Harry said pleasantly.

"You can do the same right back to him!" Ron said.

"Forget it! I'm here to maintain order, not help you two misfits cause even more trouble! Now come along. Potions is about to begin!"

****

_What a disaster!_ Draco though much later as class ended an agonizing two hours later and all students happily hurried from the dungeons for lunch. How could Snape do this to him? He always though the greasy git liked him more than that. But it just went to show that even your closest ally can turn on you and that was exactly what the Potions Master had done the minute he'd charged into the classroom, cutting off all whispering instantly.

He'd turned to the class, dark eyes glowing against his scowling face. "You will be placed in groups of two! This partner will be with you for the remainder of the year!" he growled, making most brighten up at the idea of working with their friends for the rest of the semester. "Well? What are you waiting for?"

There was a rustle as people rose and hurried to join their teammates. Draco merely glanced at Theo and got a silent nod.

"No, this simply will not do," Professor Snape's sarcastic drawl drew the attention of everyone in the room and they watched as the bat of the dungeon loomed menacingly over the Golden Trio. "I think it is time that we cut the cord that binds you three," he said, smirking coldly. "Ms. Granger, you will join Mr. Malfoy. Potter, with Nott and Weasley, you will be with Ms. Parkinson."

Six protesting voices chimed through the air and were instantly silenced with just a look from the frightening Professor.

"Do it now or you will all fail!"

The Slytherins didn't move. Why should they? They waited for the Gryffindors to get out of their seats and make their way across the room to join the group across the chamber.

The object of his every thought dropped her bag down on Draco's desk and slumped into the chair across from him. She kept her brown eyes down, concentrating on removing her books from her pack and setting them methodically facing his.

Draco watched her, noting how slender her fingers were around her quill and how dainty and feminine her scripture was across her parchment. But what he noticed the most was her absolute refusal to glance his way. He could have sworn everything and everyone in the room got her attention except him. It would have been amusing if he didn't know why.

Unconsciously, his gaze maneuvered down the front of her white button up dress shirt, lingering where the soft material stretched over her breasts with every inhale. He recalled how they had been pressed against her palm the previous night, making the creamy mounds appear plump and… heaven help him… succulent. Images of them hadn't left his mind for a minute all day and most of the night. All he could think was getting _his_ hands on them, just to see if they were really as soft and full as they'd looked in those brief few minutes.

_Fuck!_

This was becoming ridiculous! He needed to regain control! There was no way he… he was a bloody Malfoy for fuck sakes! He could have any girl he wanted with just a snap of his well-manicured fingers, so why the hell did he want this… this… _her_!

He didn't! He didn't want her! Why would he?

"Hey, you okay?" Theo nudged Draco sharply with his bony elbow.

"Fine!" he snarled with more force than necessary, wincing when his friend eyed him with surprise and doubt. "Fine," he repeated, crossing his arms over the desk and looking away.

"Now, for your other pairs! Nott and Potter with Malfoy and Granger. Weasley and Parkinson with Crabbe and Goyle…"

Draco didn't listen to the rest. Instead, he watched as Theo and Potter moved to join him and Hermione. At least he was with Theo. He would have been pissed if he wound up with the whole Golden Trio.

"Now that you are all in your groups, you will come up with a potion. Then, you will switch potions with the two other people in your group. They will have to find a way to block the potion, or create an antidote. Questions?" No one raised their hands, knowing he wouldn't care. "Go!" he barked at them, and immediately chatter began on how to make their potion, and what type of potion they should make.

Draco turned to Theo, determined to keep on top of his game by avoiding all conversations with the two Gryffindors as much as possible. "We'll create the Draught of Living Death—"

"That doesn't have a cure," Hermione interrupted him, still staring at her parchment with a haughty expression on her face. "I think we should try something like—"

"I know what I'm doing, Granger!" he snapped, infuriated that she could continue to affect his traitorous body and insult him at the same time.

Eyes of liquid honey shot up to his with a glare worthy of… well, a Malfoy. "Clearly you do not, Malfoy, or you wouldn't be suggesting something so outlandish!"

"Excuse me, but who has top marks in potion?" he sneered, lips curling back in a smug smirk.

Her tiny, pointed chin jolted up a fraction in a gesture that would have made him proud with the arrogance it portrayed, if it didn't exasperate him. "I do, actually. _You_ have second place."

He saw red. "How dare you suggest that _I _would come second to _you_?!"

The haughty little chit smirked! She actually smirked! At _Him_! What the hell!

"If it makes you feel any better, it's not just potions I'm better at."

"What?" he roared, grabbing the attention of several of the students around them. "That's bullshit!"

She arched a questioning brow while crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair. "Is it?"

"Actually, you're both tied—"

"Shut up, Nott!" they both shouted on unison, never breaking eye contact with the other.

Good God, she looked delicious when she was smug… no! He did not just think that! And he most certainly did not just want to leap across the table, grab her and…

"We're doing the fucking draught!" he bellowed, slamming his fist on the table and knocking over his ink bottle. "I don't care what you have to say about it! You're going to be at the library tonight! End of story!"

Now, he sat at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall melting into the usual routine of eating and trying to act bored and indifferent while he was almost painfully aware of the Muggleborn across the room.

She sat between those idiotic friends of hers. But while they stuffed their faces – or rather Weasley did – she sat in blissful ignorance, methodically flipping through her potions book.

He knew she was searching ways to cure the Draught of Living Death, and he knew she wouldn't find one, but he wasn't going to tell her that. So what if she'd been right about there being no cure? He wasn't going to admit that to her or anyone! Malfoys were never wrong!

"What's wrong with you?" Theo asked, breaking him from his heated of concentration.

"Nothing!" he snapped, turning his murderous glare down at his plate. "Why?"

Theo shrugged. "You've been moody all day. Don't tell me your first night with the delectable Hermione Granger was that tedious."

Draco sneered at the remark. "Don't ever use _delectable_ and _Granger_ in the same sentence again!"

Theo swept back his shaggy, black tresses from his soft, brown eyes and glanced over at the witch in question. "I don't know, mate, she's…" he trailed off, whistling softly under his breath. "I certainly would not mind being stuck with her for the night."

It took a lot of convincing on Draco's part to restrain the urge to slap his friend's face into the bowl of mash potatoes. Instead, he shot to his feet, screwing a look of pure annoyance on his face and responded.

"Shouldn't you be kissing Potter's ass, Nott?"

Theo smirked at his friend's biting retort. "I'd rather be kissing _her_ ass, but if Potter is the way to go to get there… I'm willing to make the sacrifice."

"While I think your father would love to hear that, I'm going to the library to do some actual work."

From the corner of his eye, he watched as Hermione closed her book and rose to her feet. He wondered what she was up to while circling the Slytherin table towards the doors and was surprised when she tucked away her things and started in the same direction.

He picked up his pace, not because he was trying to reach the middle at the same time as her, but because he wanted to beat her to the door. After all, Malfoys always went first.

They reached the doors at the same time, coming to a halt when they nearly collided.

"Watch where you're going, Granger," he muttered. "Where are you going anyway?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but I'm going to the library," she answered, spearing her hip with one fist as if challenging him to make something of her destination.

"Good. You can start on the project," he conceded, crossing his arms.

Her frown was instant. "Excuse me? Why do _I _have to start the project? Why can't you? This was _your_ idea!"

"Because I'm the team leader," he replied smoothly, picking a piece of lint off his robes. "I'm merely here to supervise."

"Supervise. My. Ass. Malfoy!" she snarled, brown eyes flashing, pink lips pulled back into a growl.

He smirked down at her, resisting the little voice in his head pointing out how sexy she looked when she was furious. "Are you offering, Granger?"

The delicate shade of red that stained her cheeks only fueled the urge brewing inside him to reach out and touch the smooth slope.

"You're a disgusting pig, Malfoy!" she barked. "And you are coming to the library with me or… you're coming!"

Much later when he was reflecting on the events of that day, Draco told himself that when she grabbed his hand and dragged him forcibly to the library, the reason he didn't pull away was because he didn't want to make a scene. Letting her think she had won was the only way he could get her to shut up and get some work done. It had nothing to do with how nice her soft skin felt against his or how… comfortable the gesture felt. That was just a silly notion and… it wasn't how he felt at all. In fact, he couldn't wait until they reached the dusty library where she abruptly released him and headed off to find them the necessary books. He definitely didn't feel the tingly sensation spread across his palm and up his arm.

Nope. The Muggleborn didn't affect him in the least.

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**A/N: There you are, my lovies. I hope you liked this chapter and I promise tons of juicy… naughty things for the upcoming chapters (Grins devilishly)**

**Loved it? Liked it? Hated it? Let me know!!**


	4. Chapter 4

This story was originally written by Beauxbatons22 who has graciously allowed me permission to rewrite and finish it! The original story (The Dark One) is still posted on Beauxbatons22's account so I strongly recommend you show her some love!

http :// www . fanfiction . net/u/900199/Beauxbatons22

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**A/N: Here we are another chapter! Now before I tell you how ecstatic I am about everyone's attention to this story, I would like to answer some pressing concerns that people have shown regarding:**

**Draco's behavior towards Hermione**

**Hermione leaving the shower when she was in there first.**

**Keep in mind who Draco is. He's not Harry or Ron or someone that knows or likes Hermione. Seven years of bad blood between them (no pun intended) isn't going to go away in the matter of 24hrs. So hostilities will still be there and it will take time to get over them. **

**Let's face it, ladies, I don't care if Jason Isaac stepped into the shower with me, I would still run out – then jump back in when my senses caught up with me – but everyone's first, initial reaction when caught naked, is to bolt and cover. And with Hermione's insecurities with her figure, there is no way she's going to stand there naked and argue the fact with Draco. Right?**

**Now that I have cleared that up hopefully, I would like to thank everyone for their overwhelming support! I love reviews, especially ones telling me what I'm writing makes them laugh, think, feel or whatever. If you liked it, tell me! If not, tell me anyway! Okay, I'm done. On with the story!**

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Chapter 4

Her head was pounding, and not just a little pinch, full blown thundering that had her eyes watering and her teeth aching. She was sure her brain was about to melt and trickle from her nose and ears.

Across from her at the table back at the Head's dorm, Draco sat, unconscious of the pain shaking his study partner's entire body. He was methodically flipping through one of the heavy books they'd pillaged from the library nearly seven hours ago. Neither of them had spoken a word since their return and that had been fine with her up until she realized they couldn't very well work on the same project without speaking. But since they were only doing research, she didn't bother drawing him into conversation.

When he slammed his book closed with enough force to make the table vibrate and her ears shrill, Hermione whimpered and dropped her head down on her folded arms. She pressed her eyes closed and wished she had something to calm the throbbing. The infirmary was too far and she really didn't feel like wondering the halls when she could barely keep her head up.

Draco noticed nothing of her agony. He snatched up another book, dropped it down in front of him and flipped it open. He continued to thumb through the worn pages, reading the things that stood out the most.

Halfway through the book, he came across a potion that enhanced good-looks for wizards in their thirties and forties. He knew _he_ wouldn't need said potion, not when his father was prime example of how a Malfoy aged – with grace and elegance – but he was certain Crabbe and Goyle could use the stuff, especially after seeing their fathers.

He grabbed the top of the page, prepared to tear it clean out, when he paused and glanced up at his silent partner. She hadn't moved in nearly ten minutes and if he guessed correctly from her slow, even breathing, he assumed she was sleeping.

Cautiously, he cleared his throat, waiting to see if she would glance up or shift. When she remained immobile, he quickly tore out the page, folded it and tucked it into his pocket. He then quickly closed the book and stuffed it under all the others before fixing his attention on the slumbering witch.

"Granger?"

Nothing, not even a flutter of her dark, dusky lashes.

He momentarily wondered if he should simply leave her there. It would certainly serve her right. If she'd been so exhausted, why didn't she simply go up to bed? He surely didn't need the company.

But just when he rose to his feet and started towards his room, something made him stop and glance back.

He hated that she looked so… vulnerable. Didn't she know how dangerous it was falling asleep in his presence? There were a countless number of things he could do to her right then and she would never know.

"Stupid witch," he muttered to himself.

The knot in his chest tightened when the object of his observation shivered, nuzzling into the folds of the book under her folded arms as if seeking heat.

"Stupid… fucking… stupid… ugh!" he growled and grumbled under his breath, wishing he could hit or kick something.

Well, he didn't have a choice. He couldn't just leave her there, he decided. She'd wake up in the morning with a bloody crick in her neck and she'd bitch, whine and complain about it and he didn't have the patience to listen while she accused him of leaving her there. He'd rather just avoid that whole argument all together if he could.

Sighing heavily, he trudged back to her and peered down into her peaceful expression.

Gone were the frowns, the glares, and the looks of distrust. There before him she lay completely open, vulnerable in a way he didn't understand. Her cheek was flushed, rosy beneath the long, dusky curve of her lashes. He'd never noticed how long they were before. But standing that close, he could almost count them.

Then there were her lips, parted ever so slightly to reveal small, white teeth. A long, curl lay across her jaw and just brushed her plump, bottom lip. It was the only thing mirroring her otherwise flawless features. But even as he thought it, he never dreamt that he would actually reach over, hook the coil and gently push it aside.

His heart nearly stilled when she sighed and shifted slightly.

He wondered if he should run, hide, but he found his feet frozen to the carpet, waiting, watching as she drifted back into sleep. Only then did he exhale in relief.

_Stop being an idiot!_ A voice growled in his head.

He quickly shook himself and screwed down his resolve. And without giving thought to anything else, he bent down and scooped her up into his arms.

_Bloody hell… the girl weighed nothing! _He thought, trudging across the room and up the stairs towards her dorm.

He took the steps up and stopped at the portrait of a tall, stern looking witch.

"Password?" she drawled in a deep, almost masculine voice.

"How the hell would I know?" he snapped. "Just open the bloody door!"

"No."

Draco blinked. "What?"

"I cannot without a password," she replied, tilting her chin a little and turning it away as if the sight of him sickened her.

"Well, the Head Girl is asleep, as you can clearly see, and I don't have the password. So, let me in!"

"No."

A deep, guttural growl left him and he would have kicked the insolent woman if Hermione hadn't taken that moment to stir in his arms, nuzzling the curve of his neck and making a purring sound that had his entire body tingling in a strange show of response.

Casting the indifferent woman a fierce scowl, he spun on his heels and returned to the bottom of the stairs and contemplated his next course of action.

He couldn't take her to her bed. He couldn't leave her at the table.

He glanced at the sofa and instantly brushed the thought aside. It looked lumpy and uncomfortable.

Well, what the hell was he supposed to do with her?

The small prickle of a thought struck him and his gaze reluctantly swerved back to the stairway, but this time, towards his door.

Could he… to _his_ bed? Hermione Granger? Was he insane? She'd kill him! But he had to do something. He couldn't just stand there all night holding her, although he did kind of like it.

_I must be more tired than I thought!_ Shaking his head, he threw caution into the air and ambled up the stairway towards his room.

At the top, the wizard in the portrait arched a dark brow, staring down at Hermione. "No females allowed in the rooms!"

"Shut up and open the bloody door!" Draco growled, shifting Hermione a little higher in his arms.

"There are rules—"

"I. Don't. Give. A. Fuck!" he snarled, kicking the bottom of the portrait. "Let me the fuck in!"

The wizard leapt back, a scowl darkening his face. "No need to get testy! I need the password!"

"Purity of blood!" he snapped, stomping straight inside the minute the door swung open.

At the bed, he jostled Hermione a little higher against his chest while maneuvering the arm at her back down to yank back the silky, green duvet. Once he had her placed onto the mattress, he reached down and began undoing her shoes, slipping them off her tiny feet and placing them on the floor beneath the bed. Then, he pulled the blanket over her, tucking her beneath them before heading into the bathroom to prepare himself for bed.

He emerged ten minutes later clad in his flannel pajama bottoms and went straight for the bed. He'd given this a lot of thought while he'd been getting ready. There was no way he was going to sleep out in the common room when the bed was large enough to avoid any contact from her. Besides, this was _his_ room! Why should _he_ have to leave? He was already going against everything he knew by allowing her to be there. He wasn't going to deprive himself a good night's rest on top of that.

That was a good enough debate for him. He was convinced. So, on the other side of the bed, he drew back the covers and slipped beneath them, keeping as far away from the other figure in the bed as possible.

_When the hell did I grow a bloody conscience anyway?_

****

It was pitch black out when Draco was stirred awake. For a moment, he couldn't quite recall where he was or why there was another body wiggling into his side. But the pieces quickly struck him like a two-ton boulder, jerking him instantly awake when said body grinded and thrashed in a way that was far too intimate for it not to be. Hermione's breasts, her crotch… they were all rubbing into his side, his thigh. It was like she was trying to dry hump his leg and fuck did it ever turn him on. His erection was throbbing… painfully.

_Shit… shit…_

He had to do something! He had to make her stop! He had to…

_Oh fuck!_

Her knee nudged the bulge between his legs, nearly sending his eyeballs back into his skull. Her soft, small hand skimmed up the plane of his chest and back down, in slow, lazy strokes. The heat from her palm seared his flesh, making him hiss slightly through his teeth and shudder.

No! He couldn't let this happen! This was Granger for fuck sakes! He should push her away! He shouldn't let her…

_Son of a bitch!_ His head roared when her hand brushed past the band of his pants and curled around the hard length of his cock.

Was she awake? Did she even know what she was doing? Somewhere in his fuzzy brain, he wondered if he should call her name, snap her from this torture and then… he didn't know what, and didn't get the chance to contemplate when she tightened her fist, dragging it up and down his shaft through the soft fabric of his pants.

Against his thigh, she continued to grind, rolling her hips and squishing her crotch into his scalded flesh. And even with the materials separating them, he could feel the moisture dampening her panties.

_Dear God, what was she doing? Where did she learn…?_

Whatever he was thinking vanished instantly from his mind when her hand slipped past the drawstrings of his pants and cupped him flesh-to-flesh.

_Oh sweet, merciful…!_

He let his eyes roll back and close as her cool fingers wrapped around his hot shaft. His hips bucked into her touch.

This seemed to please her because her pumping grew faster as did the thrashing of her hips.

He didn't know what possessed him to do it, but he figured she was jerking him off and a Malfoy always returned the favor, so he didn't give it too much thought when slipping his hand between her thighs and cupped her hot core. Her whimper was all the consent he needed when he pushed aside the flimsy material and sought out her sleek heat.

_Shit she's wet!_

The juices were just pouring out of her and he wasted no time sinking his fingers home. Her cry of ecstasy rang through the otherwise quiet room as he pistoned inside her, rolling the pad of his thumb over her clit hurriedly.

He wasn't going to last very long and he wasn't about to go before her!

"Come on, baby," he whispered hoarsely into her ear. "Come for me."

She whimpered and moaned, grinding against his hand the way he wished she would his cock.

"Come on," he encouraged, reaching up with his free hand and cupping her clothed breast, molding and squeezing the perfect globes into his palm.

The grip around his cock trembled, but didn't stop, not even when he thumbed her puckered nipple and she bucked, shattering around his intruding fingers and rushing his palm with hot, sticky cream. Her wail of pleasure, the shudder of her delectable body quickly pulled him to join her and he relieved himself into her hand, groaning her name.

They lay perfectly still with only their ragged breathing filtering around them. Several minutes passed before she suddenly pulled away from him and rolled over onto her other side and continued to sleep as if nothing just happened. His come was still dripping from her fingers.

Draco just lay there, dazed and amazed. That had been the greatest orgasm he'd had in ages and they hadn't even had sex. Who would have thought Granger was such a little freak at night? But at the same time, it irked him to think Weasley and Potter had witnessed this side of her at some point and possibly gained from it. Those sleazy bastards. He wouldn't put it past them to take advantage of her while she was sleeping, when she didn't know what she was doing and was vulnerable.

Idly, he brought his cream soaked fingers to his mouth and licked her off them, savoring her exotic flavor. He briefly wondered if he'd get away with it if he snuck beneath the blankets and cleaned her up. It would be for her benefit of course. Sleeping in one's own release couldn't be comfortable…

His cock twitched to life for the second time as he reached for the blankets, prepared to draw them down when she suddenly stirred. He quickly dropped his arm and lay perfectly still with his eyes half closed.

He watched through his lashes as she came awake. She pushed up right on the bed and glanced around. Even in the dark, he could just make out her baffled expression as she took in her surroundings. But it amused him that it took her even longer to glance down at her bedmate.

Her wide-eyed, horrified gasp nearly sent him into a peal of laughter. She was shocked to find him there, but if only she knew what she'd started only minutes before. Little Miss Perfect would probably die of fright.

Hermione stared at the slumbering form of Draco Malfoy with absolute dismay and confusion. How the hell did she get into his room? Into his bed? What the hell happened? Did she sleep with him?

Oh God! She must have! Her panties were dripping and she felt… God, she felt _good_!

Her hand flew up to cover her gapping mouth and she jolted when something sticky and salty smeared across her lips.

Curiously, she slicked her lips, drawing the tangy flavor deeper into her mouth. A moan of pleasure escaped her. The stuff, whatever it was, tasted incredible! She wasted no time lapping it clean off her fingers, going so far as to pull each digit into the back of her throat and suck.

Next to her, she heard a deep, rumbling sound emanate from her sleeping partner and she froze.

Shit! What the hell was she doing? This wasn't the time for this! She had to get back to her room!

With a quick glance at Draco, she crept out of bed, grabbed her shoes and bolted out of the portrait door. She missed the smirk that curled around his lips just before the door closed behind her.

* * *

**A/N: My favorite part: Draco accusing Ron and Harry of doing inappropriate things to Hermione while she was sleeping. Lol. But I hope you guys liked it :D**

**More naughty things coming over the horizon! (Grins devilishly)**

**Loved it? Liked it? Hated it? Let me know!! It only takes a second!!**


	5. Chapter 5

This story was originally written by Beauxbatons22 who has graciously allowed me permission to rewrite and finish it! The original story (The Dark One) is still posted on Beauxbatons22's account so I strongly recommend you show her some love!

http :// www . fanfiction . net/u/900199/Beauxbatons22

* * *

**bA/N: Okay, where to start? Thank you to everyone who commented! You all make me so giddy and giggly! It's truly a wonderful feeling! Thank you! Plus, the more reviews I get, the more I want to post and the more I post the more you guys get to read and the more you guys get to read… you get the point (grins) It's all just one, big juicy cycle!!**

**Okay, for those of you who asked: will Theo be more involved? And I've been giving this some serious thought. Hell, why not? He's a sexy man beast and I think Draco needs a little run for his money, don't you? But I'll let you guys tell me just how far our sexy man beast should go with our kinky sleeper. I am open to all suggestions, comments, reviews (hint, hint)**

**Now that I've weaseled all those delicious thoughts into your head, on with this fan-worthy chapter! ENJOY!/b**

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Chapter 5

"What happened to you yesterday, Hermione?" Ron asked the next morning during breakfast.

Lost in her revere, Hermione stiffened when her name was mentioned. Her head shot up fast, her eyes wide.

"What?"

"You didn't come by the common room last night," Ginny replied from beside her.

"Oh, I… uh… I stayed up pretty late last night studying," she answered, mostly to her food while she poked at it dispassionately with her fork.

No one seemed to find this odd.

Ginny continued. "So, how are things with Malfoy?"

The mention of his name sent shivers along her spine. She couldn't suppress the anxious glance she sent the other table where the Head Boy sat, head down, staring at his plate of eggs.

As if sensing her stare, his head came up and his gray eyes met hers.

Little bolts of electricity sizzled through her. She could almost feel the tingles right down to the tips of her fingers and toes. The hot, indistinguishable fire behind the stare had the pit of her stomach turning to scalding liquid honey. She could feel it trickling from inside her, moistening her panties. Her breathing became a little harder, a little more erratic. She couldn't seem to contain it.

"Hermione!" Ginny's hand waving in front of her face snapped her thoughts back into place and broke the connection holding her prisoner.

"Oh… things are fine," she blurted, dropping her gaze to her plate.

Well, they were… sort of. She really didn't how she ended up in Draco's bed the previous night, but she was almost certain that nothing had happened. Waking up drenched in her own juices was natural to her as was the feeling of having just climaxed. True that it had never felt _that_ good before, but… maybe it was different because there had been another body next to hers. Usually she jolted awake alone with her own fingers buried deep inside her pulsing canal.

Oh, she sure hoped she hadn't done that in Draco's bed! How embarrassing if he'd caught her! It wasn't even something she could control. It just happened. Ever since she was fifteen-sixteen, she would wake up in the strangest places, panties stretched around her ankles and cream running down the insides of her thighs.

Thankfully, no one had caught her… yet, but she knew her luck would run out eventually. It had gotten to the point where she started putting wards up around her bed along with a silencing charm and closed the drapes, just to keep her secret. The one time she'd forgotten, she woke up in the kitchen at home, straddling a chair. Her clothes lay in a pool of fabric by her feet, a pool of release dripping over the edge of the chair. She'd been so horrified. What if her parents had walked in?

In the present, Hermione jolted from the memory and shook her head to clear it. That night had been the last time she went to bed without giving herself release first. It had become a routine, masturbating each night before sleep helped her remain in bed and not go wondering through the house or castle. She still woke up wet with her fingers dripping, but she was still in the same place she'd fallen asleep in and that's all that counted.

But last night… had she sleepwalked to Draco's bed? She recalled the pounding in her head while she'd been reading. She remembered putting her head down for only a second… But her clothes were still in place. Her nightly prowling usually left her naked wherever she wound up. So, did that mean Draco had taken her to his bed? But why? Why would he do that? Was he hoping to take advantage of her? So, why hadn't he? If he hadn't taken her in hopes of doing something with her, then that would mean that… She shook away that thought. Draco Malfoy did not do nice things for other people! Did he?

She was so confused and she couldn't even bring herself to ask him. How horrifying to face an enemy and ask if she'd done anything inappropriate while she'd been sleeping. No, she would keep it to herself, unless he brought it up.

****

Draco couldn't stop thinking about it. Every time he saw her, his cock was instantly hard and throbbing. It had been nearly impossible all through potions to keep his expression disinterested when all he wanted to do was throw her down on the table and lick her from head to toe. Several times throughout class, he had to reach under the table and stroke the raging hard-on tenting the front of his pants to ease some of the pressure.

But it didn't help matters when the little minx seemed to have butter fingers that day and kept dropping things she was forced to bend down and pick up again.

Good God, did she ever have nice legs. Why hadn't he ever noticed them before? They went on forever and when she bent at the waist, reaching, reaching, reaching for that stupid quill… all he could do was fist his erection and squeeze to keep from spraying his shorts when he caught sight of the flimsy, cotton panties nestled between the taut globes of her backside.

What he wouldn't give to get up behind her, shove up her skirt, tear aside her panties and dive into that smooth, hot cunt of hers. He could still feel the way she'd tightened around his fingers, milking and sucking at him while her juices squirted over his palm.

"Draco!" Theo nudged his side, breaking him away from the sensual image embedded inside his head.

"What?" he barked, furious at the interruption.

"Class is over."

So it was. The class was nearly completely empty.

"I… uh… need to get something from my room," he muttered, leaping to his feet, grabbing his books and starting for the door. "I'll… I'll see you at lunch… later."

He practically ran to his dorm in his desperation for some alone time. He slammed the portrait door closed, threw off his clothes and fell back on the bed with his hand fisted tightly around his nearly purple erection. A groan left his throat and his eyes fell closed. He imagined Hermione's hands wrapped around him, moving, shifting and guiding him to ecstasy. And he was just getting into that image when a soft, whimper broke his concentration.

His hand stilled on his cock and his ears perked, waiting to catch that sound again.

It rang through the still air again, but this time in the form of a strangled gasp.

Intrigued, he climbed off the bed and made his way towards the bathroom door. The groans and pants seemed to be coming from the other side. Could little Miss Perfect really be in there with someone? Was she getting fucked at that very moment? The loud, squishy sound was proof enough.

How dare she bring someone else into their dorm? How dare she – a Muggleborn witch – get action when he was nearly ready to explode? He just could not let that happen!

He reached for the knob and yanked it. Nothing happened. The little witch must have put a locking charm up, he mused, retrieving his wand and murmuring the counter charm and pulling the door open, uncaring of his nudity or the erection bobbing at full swing between his masculine thighs. His main and only objective was to find out who was making the Head Girl moan like that and beat the crap out of him, but only because he wasn't allowed in the Head bathroom of course!

But what he saw inside froze him on the spot. There – in all her half-naked beauty –stood Hermione, leaning against the wall next to the sink, legs lewdly parted, skirt hiked up, shirt unbuttoned, eyes closed and fingers moving erratically inside her panties. Beads of water trailed down her face, dripping off her tilted chin to form a glistening path down her bare chest, between her firm succulent breasts to her navel. The pathetic, white bra she wore barely concealed the luscious globes bouncing with each desperate penetration of her fingers deep inside her dripping pussy.

_Holy shit!_ His brain cried, his cock nearly exploding at the delicious sight. She was beautiful, beyond beautiful. She was unlike anything he'd ever seen!

His gawking was momentarily interrupted when she suddenly stopped. Panicking, he quickly closed the door partially, leaving it open just a crack to watch as she tugged her panties down her long legs and remove them, giving him a perfect view of her tight, cleanly shaven mound. The stiff, pink muscle between the silky lips glistened with her juices, begging him to touch, taste… suck. God, how he wanted to take that little thing into his mouth and make her scream.

Unconsciously, his hand found his cock again. He continued to observe as she returned her cream coated fingers to her slit and resumed her steady penetration. Her moans and whimpers warned him she was close, so he picked up the pace as well, pumping in time to her. A groan left him when she reached up and tore down her bra, exposing the ripe mounds for his viewing pleasure.

Fuck, they were perfect! Round, firm and topped with tight, pink nipples. He loved how she pinched and rolled them between her fingers and moaned loudly.

"Yes, baby! Fuck, yes!" he panted under his breath, feeling his balls tighten in an age-old warning.

Even from a distance, he could see the trickle of juice pouring from her stuffed slit with every hard thrust. It was forming a small puddle between her parted feet. It poured from her knuckles, growing thicker and whiter the closer she came to orgasm.

It was the sight of her thrashing body arched off the wall, head thrown back, eyes closed, mouth gaping while she sobbed her release that had him squirting into his hand and biting back his groan. But even still, he never took his eyes away from her, from the rush of cream just pouring from her core.

She was visibly trembling when her fingers slipped out. She stayed against the wall for support, eyes closed, body flushed a delectable pink. Her breasts jiggled with every ragged breath she sucked in and her clit continued to tremble ever so slightly.

Draco slicked his lips, wishing desperately that he could do the same to her fingers and cunt. He'd never had this insatiable urge to clean anyone like he did with her. He'd never wanted to delve his tongue into a woman's hot channel and let them cream into his mouth. But with her, he wanted to impale her with his tongue, his fingers, his cock. He wanted to be covered in her release. He wanted to take her in every possible manner and brand her over and over again as his.

His cock was at full swing again when he softly closed the door and returned the locking charm. He did a quick cleansing charm on himself and redressed.

In the bathroom, he heard the faucet run followed by the sound of a door closing softly then silence.

Something told him Hermione would not be pleased if she ever became privy to his voyeurism, but who said he had to tell?

* * *

**A/N: Ah, my sexy, voyeuristic, Draco, Hermione is going to kick your ass when she finds out what a naughty boy you've been. **

**Maybe the next chapter will have a little Theo love, mm? But only if I'm asked super nicely (Grins)**

**Loved it? Liked it? Hated it? Let me know!! It only takes a second!!**


	6. Chapter 6

This story was originally written by Beauxbatons22 who has graciously allowed me permission to rewrite and finish it! The original story (The Dark One) is still posted on Beauxbatons22's account so I strongly recommend you show her some love!

http :// www . fanfiction . net/u/900199/Beauxbatons22

* * *

**A/N: Here we are! Here we are! Another chapter YAY!! Thanks to all that reviewed! I am truly honored and delighted by your flattering attention! **

**Now with that said, on with our story!! Enjoy :D**

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Chapter 6

"Granger," Hermione glanced up from the notes she'd been scribbling on Ancient Runes as Theodore Nott ambled up to her table.

For a moment, she actually glanced around, not sure what the dark, sinfully gorgeous Slytherin could possibly want with her when he suddenly pulled out the seat across from her, whirled it around until the back touched the table edge and straddled it without invitation. He folded his long arms over the top and smirked.

Hermione frowned a little, wary of his unexpected presence. "Can I help you?"

Thick, straggly, black tresses fell over his deep, brown eyes, darkening them further if possible. "I just happened to be walking by and thought I'd keep you company," he answered as if it were the most natural thing to do.

"Why?" she asked cagily

He shrugged. "Why not? We're supposed to be partners for Potions after all. It would make sense if we worked together."

"You're Harry's partner," she pointed out, twirling her quill and wondering if she should keep her wand ready just in case he decided to do something underhanded. "Shouldn't you be helping him out?"

"I, unfortunately, do not supply the type of help he and Weasley require," he replied, smirking a little in a way that made her own lips want to twitch.

"I see, well," she pointed to her open textbook. "You can jot down notes while I—"

"I think I would rather just watch you."

Finger still pointing, Hermione arched a brow. "Right, because that's not creepy at all."

He shrugged. "Well, I could hide behind a bookcase if you prefer."

"I'd prefer if you didn't do either."

"We can't get everything we want."

Setting her quill aside, she crossed her arms over her books and leaned in towards him slightly. "Why are you _really_ here, Nott?"

He winced. "Please, Theo is fine. You make me sound like my father and that's just… it's wrong."

"All right, _Theo_, what do you want?"

His dark brow arched. "What makes you think I want anything?"

"Aside from your stealthy stalking? Maybe the fact that you're sitting at my table."

He raised his arms and glanced down at the table under them as if searching for something. "What's wrong with your table?"

"Other than the fact that I'm Muggleborn? Nothing."

His arms returned to their crossed position on the table and he met her level stare. "If all Muggleborns looked as good as you, I'm sure even the Dark Lord would reconsider that rule."

Hermione blinked, jaw gapping. "Are you… Did you just… hit on me?"

He suddenly rose to his feet, swinging his long legs up and over the chair. His twinkling eyes never left hers as he spun the chair back around and tucked it under the table.

"You're the smart one," he smirked sinfully, taking a step back. "Figure it out and get back to me."

Then, as if he hadn't just struck her upside the head with his silky words, he gave her a sexy wink and sauntered away, leaving her staring after him open mouthed.

****

Someone must have spiked the water over that the Slytherin table, Hermione was almost certain of it when Pansy stormed over to the Gryffindor table later during supper and slammed both white knuckled fists on the table and loomed over Hermione menacingly.

"Admit that you rigged the potions arrangement, Mudblood!" Pansy sneered, her dark hair billowing around her enraged features. "I know you did so you could steal Draky away from me!"

Hermione scuffed, idly scooping chicken into her plate. "Pansy, I wouldn't want Draky if you paid me. He's all yours with my blessing!"

Pansy leaned in until her hair nearly draped across Hermione's plate and their noses nearly touched. "Don't think I don't know what you're up to and let me tell you something, _Mudblood_, I'm not about to let some little bitch stand in the way of everything I've worked so hard to accomplish. So you better watch your back, because this isn't over by a long shot."

Hermione sighed when the Slytherin stalked away finally.

It wasn't fear that slumped inside her. It wasn't even apprehension. She knew if push came to shove, she could hex Pansy to an inch of her miserable life. The reason behind her own misery was sitting across the hall, blond head bowed over his plate.

"You can't let her get to you, 'Mione," Harry said, not glancing up from his task of separating his peas from his carrots. "She's just trying to start trouble."

"I really don't care," she muttered, spearing a piece of chicken with her fork. "I'm going to eat my chicken and head to the library. Hopefully I can start on that potions assignment early and not have to spend even more time with Malfoy than I have to."

"Turkey."

Hermione frowned at Ron's random statement. "What?"

"It's not chicken, it's turkey," he repeated, stuffing an astounding amount of mashed potato and gravy into his gapping mouth.

"Does it matter?" she asked, glancing at Harry to see if he thought Ron was as mental as she did.

"Well, if you're going to label something, you might as well give it the proper name!"

"I did give it a proper name! It's chicken!"

"I was raised around chickens," Ron reminded her, around a mouthful. "I would know the difference!"

Hermione shook her head, face scrunched in disgusted confusion. "I can't believe you're having this argument with me! Are you really that bored?"

"You're the _smart one_," he retorted. "I just thought you'd like to know the difference."

"Knock it off you two!" Harry said sharply, shutting them up.

"You know, Parkinson is such an idiot," Ron said as if he hadn't just been having an argument about turkey.

"I agree completely, but that was sort of random," Harry replied, returning to his mission of separating carrots and peas.

Ron shook his head, attention averted once more to his one, true love: his plate. "I can't believe she thinks she can hurt Hermione."

Hermione felt her heart grow warm at his words. "Oh, Ron—"

Suddenly, he snickered, shaking his head, oblivious to her momentary lapse in judgment. "I mean, that would mean she would actually have to know where the library is and the only one desperate enough to bother is Hermione. So, you're completely safe to hide there."

"Desperate? Hide?"

Ron nodded, still clueless to the rage building behind Hermione's eyes as he shoveled a forkful of turkey/chicken into his mouth, chomped and replied with his mouth brimming. "I'm just saying, you're the only one who worships books over making any friends."

Hermione gasped, outraged by such a crude assumption. "I thought you and Harry were my friends!"

Ron shrugged, glancing up for the first time. "Sure, but I mean real friends."

"Excuse me?" she shrilled, leaping to her feet, uncaring of the heads now turned in their direction.

"He didn't mean it like that," Harry soothed. "Of course we're your friends."

Ron nodded. "Oh yeah, no doubt about that, but I mean," he snickered. "It's kind of hard not to be when you kind of attach yourself to people like a leech or something."

"Attach myself? A leech?" she cried, hands fisting at her side.

"Well, yeah, ever since first year when we saved you from that troll. You kind of glued yourself to us after that. We didn't really ask to be friends," he suddenly laughed, nudging Harry with his elbow. "But I think had we known what a nag you were, we probably wouldn't have bothered with even that."

She was sure she should feel hurt by his words, but the only emotion blazing with a fiery vengeance was fury, hot, unstoppable fury so intense, she was momentarily surprised she hadn't combusted with the force. She stared at her two so-called friends with every muscle vibrating just beneath her prickling skin.

"Is this true, Harry?" she hissed through tightly clenched teeth.

Harry shrugged, fidgeting in his seat. "Maybe at first, but we really are your friends…"

It was that second hesitation that made her mind up for her. "Well, you know what? I don't need to force people to be my friends. In fact, the next time either of you need help with your homework, I strongly recommend you avoid coming to me altogether. I can't promise that you'll leave with all your pieces."

Ron snorted, returning to his meal as if she hadn't just been speaking. "Yeah right, you're funny. You'd never give up the chance to tell people what to do. It's one of your many annoying traits along with being bossy, whiny, self-absorbed and the biggest know-it-all on the planet."

"Maiale!" she hissed, flicking the wand she hadn't even realized she'd pulled out.

The spell hit Ron before he could fully finish chewing the slop in his mouth. It sparked and sizzled a moment before clearing to reveal the pig ears and snout now sprouting from his head and face.

It was an improvement, Hermione thought, pleased with her handiwork before spinning on her heels and marching out of the Great Hall, not noticing the curly, twitchy tail poking out of Ron's trousers.

Lost in a cloud of red, Hermione stormed straight back to the dorm she shared with Draco.

Draco watched her go, pale brows creased in contemplation. Across the room, people were laughing and pointing as Potter hurried Weasley out of the Great Hall, his pig tail wiggling behind him while he clamped his hands over the pointy ears sticking out from the top of his head.

It was an improvement, Draco mused, slightly amused. Weasley's revolting chewing could be heard clear across the hall. Maybe this would teach him some manners.

But Draco didn't like that Hermione had been hurt by the callus words of those two bumbling imbeciles. He told himself the protectiveness was due solely by the fact that it was _his_ job to cause her pain, not to mention her sulking was bound to drive him mad now that they were sharing a dorm.

No. He couldn't let them get away with this.

"Where are you going?" Theo asked, glancing up when Draco got to his feet.

"I forgot something," he muttered, walking swiftly out of the Great Hall after the treating backs of Potter and Weasley.

He caught up to them halfway to the infirmary.

"Hey, Potter," he called, stalking straight up to them when they stopped and turned to him.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Potter demanded, supporting his idiotic friend who had one hand clamped over his nose and the other pressing down his ears.

"Hundred points from Gryffindor… each," he said with great satisfaction. "And detention with Filch for a month!"

Oh yeah, all this power felt so good, especially when he could make his enemies suffer.

"What the fuck for?" Potter snarled.

"For disrupting lunch and upsetting the Head Girl." He winced at his slipup of the last part.

"What the hell do you care?"

Draco snorted, concealing his meaning with a dark scowl. "Don't make me add another fifty points for questioning my decision. Now get out of my sight."

He was almost certain that Potter would have stayed there and argued, and possibly thrown a few curses, but Weasley took that moment to let out a high pitched squealing sound that diverted the dark-haired wizard's attention.

"This isn't over, Malfoy!" Potter sneered, returning to his friend and hoisting him away.

No. It wasn't over, but he certainly had _his_ fun for the day.

In her room, Hermione lay curled up on the bed with little to no emotion. It baffled her that there was no anger anymore, no hurt, nothing, just a deep sated feeling of absolute… nothing. She wasn't tired or hungry. She was hardly even breathing.

Numb, that's the only thing she was certain of.

Outside her portrait door, she heard the common room door swing open and two sets of footsteps emerge. It wasn't until they spoke that she recognized their voices.

"A hundred points? Seriously? Wow, Granger is going to flip!" Theo snickered, followed by a thump of palm meeting flesh.

Hermione assumed he'd slapped Draco on the back.

"Sleazy bastards deserved it," Draco muttered.

"No doubt," Theo agreed. "So, how did it feel?"

She could almost hear the smirk in Draco's voice. "Like taking my first broomstick ride!"

The two cackled, exchanging another of those slapping sounds, this time louder, possibly high-fiving each other.

"Where do you think she went?"

Silence followed Theo's question, but it didn't last when a knock sounded on her door a second later.

Hermione remained immobile, curled with her knees hugged to her chest.

"Granger?" she heard Draco call through the portrait. "I know you're in there!"

"Go away!" she whispered, barely loud enough to echo in her own ears.

"Look, Weasley's an idiot, okay?" he hesitated slightly as if unwilling to believe what he was about to say. "You're better than him."

Hermione sniffled, realizing for the first time that she was crying.

"Let me in."

She didn't want to let him in. She didn't want to let anyone in. She wanted to be left alone with her dark misery. What could he possibly have to say anyway? What did he care? He hated her.

But at least he hadn't pretended to like her; unlike the people she'd considered her friends. He hadn't used her to get his homework completed. He didn't keep her around to weasel him out of trouble. Unlike everyone else she thought she could trust, he had been the only one who had ever been honest with her.

He hated her. He'd never made it a secret. She knew right up front where she stood with him.

Could it be that she actually felt… grateful towards a Slytherin?

"Hermione?" the hesitant whisper wasn't muffled by the door anymore. It came from inside her room.

The shock of it stole a gasp from her as her head shot up just in time to watch as Draco slipped into her room via the bathroom. He inched towards the bed, his steps hesitant.

"What are you doing in here?" she cried, mortified that he was seeing her at her weakest and most vulnerable.

He put one hand up as if warding off any hexes she may decide to throw at him. "I just want to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about!" she retorted, turning onto her other side, hoping to conceal the tears staining her cheeks. "Just go away!"

"Look," he seemed to hesitate slightly. "He's not worth it. Honestly, you can do better."

"I don't want better!" she replied, swiping at her tears with her fist. "I don't even want him! I just can't believe that…" she trailed off, mentally wincing over her near slip up. "What do you care anyway, Malfoy?"

"I don't!" he retorted sharply, as if the very idea was laughable.

She sniffed, keeping her back turned to him in hopes of concealing the emotions tightening in her throat. "Good! Then you can just go!"

The shuffle of his feet grew quieter, fading just before she heard the soft click of the door closing. She waited a heartbeat before breaking into heart-wrenching sobs that seemed to ring and echo around the room. She drew her knees tighter against her aching chest as if she could somehow keep from falling apart if she squished herself together tight enough.

"Don't cry," a soft voice whispered just before a strong, lean arm looped around her middle and she was dragged back into a hard chest.

In a moment of absolute weakness, Hermione turned into the embrace and burrowed into the comfort being provided. It was hard to determine what possessed her to do it, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Nothing else seemed to matter except the dull pain in her chest and how it felt much smaller when he held her.

"I can't believe they'd hurt me like that," she wept into the soft material pressed against her face. "I've always been there for them! I've broken rules for them! I… I would have done anything to keep them safe and alive! I feel so stupid!"

Long, blunt fingers combed back the curls plastered to her damp cheek, baring the side of her face to the lips he pressed there. "You're not stupid, Hermione. They don't deserve you."

"But I don't understand why!" she dropped her head back to peer into his liquid, gray eyes. "Why, after all these years, why would they lie to me?"

"Because they're idiots," he answered simply, using the heel of his hand to wipe away her tears. "I've been trying to tell you that for seven years."

She sniffled, dropping her head back down on his chest. "I thought we were friends."

"You don't need friends like that."

"But-but… I don't have anyone else…" she choked, breaking into fresh sobs. "No one wants me!"

"Is that what Weasley told you?" there was something sharp and dark in his voice, even though it never rose from its soft whisper against her ear.

Hermione nodded, closing her eyes. "Maybe he's right. Maybe no one wants me because I'm self-absorbed and bossy."

Into the curls on the top of her head, Draco snorted. "Your only fault is listening to the bumbling, moronic ape. He makes Crabbe and Goyle seem like a pair of well-mannered geniuses!"

At this, Hermione giggled a little, nuzzling still closer against the heat and security the confinement of his arms provided. "Why are you being nice to me? You hate me."

"Yes, but I hate Weasley more."

* * *

**A/N: There we are… a little more tenderness from Draco, a little flirting from Theo and the final straw that broke the camel's back. How's that for love, angst and suspense? HA!**

**P/S Maiale is Italian for Pig (if you hadn't already guessed) a poetic justice, no??**

**Loved it? Liked it? Hated it? Let me know!! It only takes a second!!**


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